“Pansy did, I think Pansy’s really smarter that Violet, I do hope we’ll have a little comfort now. There Pansy, dear, go to your sweet Marilla,” and she stood the child down. “We must hurry or we will be late for dinner.”
Marilla saw the four go over to the cottage, as it was called. She had been tired out with the railroad journey, entertaining as it was, then the excitement of meeting them all again, the bump on her forehead when she had come down so hard on Pansy’s head, 140 and the screams that seemed like a stab going from temple to temple tired her inexpressibly. Then, too, she was hungry. Oh, if she could have a glass of hot milk such as Jane used to bring her! She really could not help crying a little. Both babies stood up by her. Violet pounding on one shoulder, Pansy making a grab at her hair that seemed to pull it out by the roots.
“Pitty, pitty!” she said gleefully.
“Oh, Pansy dear, you hurt.” She disentangled the one hand, but the other made the same clutch and was more difficult to manage. Then she rose to her knees that her head might be out of reach. Violet came down heavily and began to cry. Poor Marilla hardly knew what to do.
The babies were much thinner and their faces not so pudgy, but Marilla thought they still resembled the Campbell soup little girl and laughed in spite of her own hurts. Then Violet spied a green apple and made a bee line for it.
“She can’t bite it,” thought Marilla, and as it kept rolling it amused the baby. Then Pansy crept toward it and there was a rather 141 funny time. Violet slapped her twin in the face and there was another howl and Marilla went to the rescue. Oh, what should she do? Everything was so strange!
“Bed’y mik, bed’y mik,” demanded Pansy, “Bed’y milk.”
“Let us go and find some,” and she raised the baby to her feet, taking her by the hand. They walked up on the porch, and she placed her in the carriage while she glanced at Violet. Not a moment too soon—the little sharp teeth were making inroads on the apple. She ran and snatched it, throwing it out of sight. There was another howl. Mrs. Borden came hurrying down.
“What is the matter?” rather crossly.
“Violet found an apple and bit in it; I threw it away.”